


Quest

by debwalsh



Series: Bingo-Bingo [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff Bingo, Idiots in Love, M/M, Prompt Fill, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 09:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18008039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Steve meets the love of his life over an anonymous chat system designed by his friend Sharon Carter.  They’re supposed to be secret Santas to each other, but Steve wants more - if only he knew who they were!A prompt fill for my Fluff Bingo and a gift fic for my Patreon patron Noukian!





	Quest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noukian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noukian/gifts).



> One of the things I am loving about prompts and bingos is being inspired to take a few words and build a world around them. It totally fits into my approach of “what if ...?” to writing. And when I can write something for someone who makes a difference in my life all the time, it’s all the sweeter.

“It’s for my social network design class.”

“Seriously.”

“Yeah, seriously. I’ve been working on this all semester - since summer, really.”

“Anonymous gift-giving.”

“Well, it’s an application of the concept. The idea is a social network where people can be truly anonymous if that’s what they choose - only the sysmods have access to identity information. People would come together strictly on the basis of interests.”

“So, a serial killer could be in the same chat room as his prey.”

“Well, yes, theoretically. I’m not saying I’d ever market the thing. It’s a proof of concept and it’s only for a grade, Steve. And it’s ideal for this purpose.”

“Secret Santa.”

“Secret Santa.”

“And you got Admin’s approval on this? Coulson’s bought into this?”

“He didn’t disapprove it.”

“Not the same thing. You know how he is about inclusion.”

“And what could be more inclusive than a system that homogenizes all users? Where your interaction is entirely based on what you say and how you present it, rather than relying on preconceived notions of someone’s social status, gender, or racial privilege?”

“Well ...”

“And besides, it’s Christmas!”

“Which right there is an exclusionary element. Not everyone celebrates Christmas, Shar.”

“Not everyone is an asshole, Steve.”

“No, seriously. Not everyone celebrates Christmas. It’s by nature a Christian holiday that isn’t shared by a vast majority of faiths on the planet. Don’t you see the debate every year over ‘happy holidays’ and ‘seasons greetings’ vs. ‘war on Christmas’?”

“Okay, fair. So we could call it ‘Yankee swap’ instead.”

“Ugh. Even worse. That whole compete for who has the best gift thing is hell on introverts. Trust me on that one.”

Sharon Carter sighed deeply. “I dunno, Steve. I’ve gotta have a practical to submit as part of my presentation. I know there are other apps out there for managing secret Santas. I wanted to make something that would enable the gifter and the giftee to get to know each other in a no-pressure environment, y’know?”

“‘D’ya have to involve the entire school to do it?”

“The larger the user population, the larger the data sampling. I get better usage statistics, identify security concerns, get a better handle on user interaction -“

“Okay, but maybe you need a better upfront interface. Like, I dunno, some way to opt-in rather than just assume -“

“Steve, that’s a good idea. I mean, like you actually have a good suggestion.”

“Don’t make it sound like I never have a good idea, Shar.”

“Well, it was bound to happen again sometime, right? Yeah. I can send out invites, then to positive respondents, I can send the link to sign up. Everyone fills out an anonymous questionnaire, and then the system pairs people based on their responses.”

“See, this is where systems fail miserably every time. The matching algorithm.”

“Well, in this case, the matching algorithm will be ‘Sharon thinks this works’ because I don’t have time to develop a functional algorithm. But think of it, Steve. A system where you get paired with someone who has similar interests, and that’s all you know about them. Then you get the chance to find out more, at your pace and without societal pressures. And if you both choose it, you can opt to unlock the next level where more facts about you are revealed. Another level, and you unlock more. Then maybe a level where you unlock voice. Another level unlocks video. The final level is irl.”

“You make it sound like a quest,” Steve snorted.

“That’s it. That’s the name.”

“Quest?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can work with that.”

“All this for Secret Santa?”

“That’s the practical application for my project.”

“Not everyone celebrates Weaponized Capitalism, Shar!”

“Don’t care, Steve!  Thanks for your help!”

“Fuck, this is not gonna end well,” Steve shook his head and went back to his homework.

&&&

>Enter password

“Ugh. Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and I always deliver the goods,” Sharon told him as she slid a sealed packet of Tim Tams White across to Steve.

He stared at the bounty for all of two seconds before putting his hand over the packet of Australian cookies, and pulled it back before she could have second thoughts. “Okay. I’ll do the first level.”

“The actual gift exchange is slated for the 21st - Solstice.”

“Solstice?” he repeated, intrigued despite himself.

“I know it can be a pagan holiday, but it’s also a celestial event. Everyone experiences the same longest day of the year.”

“Nice one.”

“So the event is known as the Solstice Anonymous Gift Exchange - SAGE.”

“Lemme guess, Coulson demanded an anagram.”

“You know our Head,” she shrugged.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll give it a shot. And when you can’t find anyone to pair me with, you’ll back off, right?”

“Steve, there is someone for you. If you weren’t gay, you know I’d want you to be my boyfriend.”

“I am your boyfriend. Your platonic boyfriend. Your platonic friend who is a boy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But Shar, I’m okay, y’know. I don’t need a dating app -“

“It’s not a dating app, doofus! It could be, but it’s not. It’s just to match up two people to exchange gifts, okay? I’m not trying to set you up, really. But I know there’s gotta be someone at this school who shares your interests in gift-giving.”

“Yeah, okay. Now get outta here. Answers are supposed to be confidential, right?”

“Yes. I will read your responses to match you up with another player, but I won’t read your demographics unless there’s a problem.”

“Okay. I’m gonna trust you on that, Shar. I’m about to open up about my deepest, darkest secrets -“

“Steve, I know about your stuffie collection, remember?”

“Yes, but do you know about my Funko Pop collection?”

“Who bought you your first Stitch Pop, huh?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Gonna have to dig deep to find something I don’t already know about you!” 

“Ugh!”

&&&

Quester101>_

The screen blinked balefully at him, expecting him to interact with ... what? He had no idea who Sharon’d paired him with, and he had serious doubts about this experiment. Wasn’t this just another invitation for SkyNet?

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit dramatic. A bit. He didn’t really understanding Sharon’s absolute devotion to technology. Sure, he liked his tablet, and he lived on his phone. He was a teenager, ffs. He played games and participated in live competitions. He used technology. Didn’t mean he trusted it.

Quester102>Hello?

Oh.

Okay.

Quester101>Hi.  

Quester102>So i guess were supposed to exchg info

Quester101>Yeh I thnk we just hav 2 click the rel info button

Quester102>ok here goes

A little “huzzah!” sounded from his laptop and a little animated dude with a big horn cavorted across his screen to his Quest mailbox, while a little 1 popped up over it. Steve snorted in response, and then did a panicked click when he realized his partner in the exchange had already put themselves out there while Steve was being an absentminded douche.

Quester101>Got it thnx

Quester102>Me 2

He opened the e-mail and noted that it was stripped of all identifying information - just from Quester102 and the time/date. The questionnaire had been careful to avoid any gender-identifying questions, but the respondents were permitted to share details if that made a difference regarding possible gifts - like clothing preferences, shoe sizes, that sort of thing. Even then, there were a lot of options that could either be androgynous, or genderfluid, so the idea was that you were getting or making something for the person, rather than your or society’s biases based on specific attributes

And Steve was really surprised to see that Quester102 had stuck to the script and what emerged was a pretty interesting person.

Faves - anime, animation, ‘80s pop rock, home demolition shows, bake-offs, and anything with those dudes from the Marvel movies.

Steve could work with that.

Quester101>Anime and animation huh? Current guilty pleasure?

Quester102>Free! ofc. Forest of Piano

Quester101>Aesthetic

Quester102>U?

Quester101>Haikyuu! Free! sumthing wo !!!

Quester102>So no yoi

Quester101>Victuri 4eva!!!

Quester102>TF

Well, that had multiple meanings, so Steve sent back a string of question marks.

Quester102:thk fuck

Steve smiled. He and Quester102 were gonna get along fine.

Quester101>Titan?

Quester102>too violent

Quester101>BNHA?

Quester102>Tododeku 4 life

Quester101>good taste

Quester102>the best

Quester101>CGI?

Quester102>HTTYD 2

Quester101>we r friends 4 life

Quester102>Luv me sum hiccup

Quester101>Astrid is queen

Quester102>snotlout is douche

Quester101>tru dat

Quester102>Hufflepuff or Slytherin?

Quester101>Gryffindor!

Steve found himself enjoying the exchange far more than he’d expected, and already ideas were forming about what kind of gift he could give this person. There was a $10 limit to make sure no one went too far, and no one was left feeling outclassed, so he couldn’t go nuts. But there was no rule that the gift couldn’t be handmade, and with someone who loved animation as much as he did ... the possibilities were literally endless.

And so began a virtual friendship that was surprisingly free, surprisingly satisfying, all without knowing anything more about each other than a few likes and dislikes. Over the next week, they chatted nightly, comparing notes about their favorite episodes, their theories for the future of each series, their ships and their headcanons.

Q102 loved Victuri, MakoHaru, and TodoDeku. Steve dug the main pairings, too, but he also really grooved on OtaYuuri, SouRin, and KiriBaku.

Q102 also admitted that Duran Duran was their fave band of the ‘80s, and that Simon LeBon was still a dish despite being old enough to be like a grandparent or something. Q102 added that swagger with talent was sexy.

So, okay. Kind of a competency kink. Steve could get behind that.

By the second week, they were comparing notes on classes, teachers curricula, and suspicions regarding term-end exams. With a start, Steve realized that Q102 was probably in at least one of his classes, if not more.  

And that got him to wondering who the anime-loving dork could be. They were required to wear a uniform, so no one was sporting any cosplay hints. Book bags were required to be patch and pin free, so no clues there. All notebooks were school issued, as well as pens, so no individuality there, either. It was sort of crushing to realize how much the school had stamped out individuality in the interest of being all-inclusive.

Wow, it was really pretty depressing now he thought about it.

And thought about it he did, running ideas by Q102 for a campaign to change up the status quo.

&&&

It was pretty amazing how quickly word spread about “Show Your True Colors.” Even more that so many people were on board with the idea. Because it would only work if the majority of the school participated. Even better if everyone did, but they at least had to have a majority.

Shield Academy’s dress code was simple, spartan, and joyless. White button down shirt, black tie, Academy blazer, black slacks, black Oxford shoes, black socks. Genderless, colorless, flavorless. It was meant to be all-inclusive, leveling social strata, gender, financial circumstances, and taste.

It turned the school into a bland monochromatic landscape of dull.

“Show Your True Colors” was a simple event. Inject color and personality into your ensemble any way you could.

People showed up that day wearing colorful scarves, striped ties, brilliant colored button downs, scrunchies in their hair, eyeshadow, nail polish, pins and badges, alternative glasses frames, and more. There was an excited under-burble to the pre-class period, but everyone slotted into their assigned seats without fanfare, without disruption, without any of the gloom and doom the administration had feared.

A few teachers raised eyebrows at the technicolor classes facing them, but no one said a word.

Headmaster Coulson came out of his office during the next change of class, and stood in the middle of the ebb and flow looking betrayed and dismayed. But again, the orderly way in which people moved, the overall sense of calm and underlying note of joy made it impossible for him to make a scene.

By mid-day, colorful pens decorated with plumes, blooms, and Pop heads came out of hidden places, and fabric book covers spoke of fealty to Hogwarts, Berk, Experiment 626, and UA High. By the last class of the day, book bags were weighed down by pins and badges, and illicit swap groups had started to form near the lockers.

By the next day, when it all started up again, the teachers passed around an addenda to the school dress code.

There was a moment of silent nodding among the studentry, and then the whole school erupted into a single long cheer. Then, as though orchestrated by a single mind, they all fell silent and went back to work.

Ah, the power of social media. There had been two conductors to the effort, Q101 and Q102, and they’d masterminded the entire thing through their nightly chats on Quest.

And they still didn’t know each other’s names. Or genders. Steve identified as gay, but hell if he wasn’t developing an extreme case of Q102ship, and it didn’t matter to him what they looked like, what parts they had. He’d found his soulmate, and that’s that. And that gave him the idea he needed for his secret Santa gift for his giftee.

&&&

The day of the gift exchange was finally here. The school was about to break for the holidays - Hanukkah, Yule, Kwanzaa, Saturnalia, Christmas, and many others - so it was time to get down with the celebration of all things material, the annual gift exchange.

And for once, Steve was excited. 

Sharon had set it up so that if people wanted to remain anonymous, they could. All the gifts were left in the admin office, where Sharon personally matched up the giftee number with the student’s mailbox. If the gifter wanted to be identified, it was their responsibility to introduce themselves in a note left with the present.

Everyone was supposed to collect their package and go to the cafeteria, where all of the gifts would be opened. Folks who wanted to meet up would be able to, but no one was pressured to do so.

Steve put a card in with his gift, along with his picture and contact details. He was practically vibrating out of his skin with anticipation.

Shar dropped down into the seat next to him, and nudged him in the ribs. “Whaddya get?”

“Haven’t opened it yet. Was hoping ... well, I mean ...”

“I did okay matching you with a secret Santa partner, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but I also ... kind of like them, too, y’know?”

“Like them or liiiike them?”

“The second, I guess?”

“Oh. Oh, and you’re hoping to meet them. Oh. Well, y’know, some people are really shy, Steve. It’s easier to talk online, especially with anonymity.”

“That’s right, you know who they are. You know they’re out of my league.”

“No, Steve. I don’t know that. I know who they are, yes. But I don’t know that anyone is out of your league. I just know ... some people have their own baggage, their own issues, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

&&&

The gift that Steve received was perfect and he loved it. It was a series of hand drawn chibis of his favorite ships, each mounted on foam core so they could be displayed as standees. They were beyond adorable, and as he fiddled with them to show them off just right, he felt a pang of loss. Placing Deku so he looked like he was kissing Todoroki, Steve thought about how he’d hoped to maybe one day kiss Q102. But if he never knew who Q102 was, that could never happen.

He’d logged onto Quest again, hoping to make the connection with Q102, to find out why they hadn’t accepted his invitation to meet, but the screen remained blank, unresponsive, and his inbox remained glaringly empty. Finally, he closed it down for the night, maybe for the last time.

He hoped Shar got a good grade on her project.

He hoped his heart would heal soon.

&&&

The next day in school, Steve swung by his mail slot to collect any strays, expecting nothing. Yeah, he’d been picking up Christmas and other holiday cards from classmates and friends over the past few days, and he’d distributed his own last week, but with everyone packing up to go home for the holidays, he really didn’t think there’d be anything there.

But there was.

He tried to quell his excitement as he reached in the cubby to pull out a deep red envelope with a really cool silver and black wax seal.

He turned it over and saw that it was addressed to Q101.

His heart lurched. Seriously, literally, lurched. He rubbed at his chest where it started to hurt a little bit.

It could be a kiss-off. Leave me alone, I never actually want to meet you.

But would Q102 tell him to fuck off so elegantly?

He ducked into the empty art room, slipped to his designated easel, and sat down on his stool with a huff. He placed the envelope against his easel and stared at it for a long moment. Then, trying to convince himself he was ready, he grabbed the envelope, held it as steady as he could, and slid his thumbnail under the seal, prying it up gently. When he finally had the envelope open, he carefully removed the folded paper, feeling an inner thickness - an actual photo?

Yes. Unfolding the paper, he found himself looking at the most beautiful cursive he’d ever even, more calligraphic than not. Whoever Q102 was, they were definitely artistic - the chibi standees and the letter certain attested to that.

But the photograph that lay nestled in the folds of the paper ... Steve felt his breath stutter, hold.

James Barnes. He shared several classes - including art - with the beautiful, tall, silent boy who always looked so sad, so unapproachable. So Steve never had approached. And thinking of the lively, generous, absolutely incredible person revealed through their anonymous chats, he felt sad, selfish, hollow.

Barnes never spoke in class. There were lots of theories about him, all more fanciful than the last, and Steve didn’t know which, if any, could be true.

There was a sound out in the hallway, a shuffle, a little jangle, and Steve looked up to see James standing uncertainly in the doorway, his hand fisted around the strap of his shoulder bag.

“James. I ...”

“Bucky,” he said softly. “I prefer Bucky.”

“Bucky. It suits you. I ... thought you didn’t want to meet me. Not after the exchange yesterday -“

“I wanted it more than anything, but I didn’t think you’d want to meet me if you knew who I really was.”

“The best chibi artist in this school? The most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen? The only co-conspirator I want in my quest for world domination?”

That earned a huffing laugh out of James - Bucky. “I loved the comic. I couldn’t believe how well you got me, I figured it had to be a mistake. It was the best present anyone’s ever given me, and I ... just didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Ruin it how?”

“By disappointing you.”

Okay, that was it. Steve had kept his distance up until then, allowing Bucky to hover in the doorway and talk across the room. But enough was enough. He shot up and stalked toward Bucky, snagged him by the hand, and pulled him over to the supplies closet. With one hand on the closet door knob, and the other holding Bucky’s hand, he looked up and asked, “I am planning to pull you into this closet and kiss some sense into you. May I have your consent?”

The most mischievous gray-blue eyes twinkled and crinkled at him as Bucky’s face lit up with an incandescent smile.

“You have my consent, fellow quester.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I’m going to be tackling more prompt fills now that my Stuck AU Big Bang story is done. I’m planning to bring my total of Stucky fict to an even 100 before the end of this year!
> 
> And you know the drill - comments make my day!


End file.
